This Is It
by MissGlasgow
Summary: The break-up.
1. Chapter 1

Andy could hear the crunching of cartilage beneath his knuckles, knew the grind of it against his fingers from many nights when he was a reckless kid, fighting at school and graduating to bars by the time he was in college. The suspect, a man called Bobby Rickman, grunted heavily under the weight Andy's fist. His blood began to flow from his nose and above his right eye, covering Andy's quickly bruising hand in sticky evidence. It's not that Andy was sorry; he wasn't. Rickman deserved a good punch in the face, but Andy knew it wasn't supposed to come from him. They weren't arresting him, therefore the "resisting arrest" excuse wasn't going to fly. They asked him to come in for questioning, and Rickman started running his mouth about how _at least the killer was picking off the bad eggs_ , only killing strippers and hookers. He went so far as to say that he thought "the guy was really cleaning up the city." Maybe it was Andy's unwavering belief that Rickman was the killer, or maybe it was the smug way he disregarded the women Andy had come to investigate in the last few days. Maybe it was simply a lack of sleep. But Andy punched him, and now he was standing in Sharon's office with the new head of FID, explaining how a suspect she hadn't even gotten to question ended up in her office with a broken nose and potential lawsuit.

"Did he resist? Was he physically resisting you in any way?" Captain Delp, the man now in charge of Sharon's former team, questioned Andy.

"Well, no. I mean the dirtbag wasn't coming with us peacefully, if that's what you mean. The guy had it coming." Andy replied, hoping to placate the new captain as well as his own.

"He had it coming," Delp repeated disdainfully. "I guess he also had a visit to the hospital and enormous settlement from the LAPD coming too?" Delp retorted.

"What settlement? The guy's not going to sue me or the LAPD. He's not even that hurt." Andy was getting frustrated now, but trying desperately to keep his cool under Sharon's clearly remorseful gaze.

"You better hope to God he doesn't, Lieutenant. And while you're at it, you better also pray you escape the scrutiny of yet ANOTHER FID investigation into your professional conduct. This is what? The fourth?" Andy rolled his eyes. "Beginning today I will be auditing any case in which you were an investigating officer where unwarranted force was noted, mentioned, or even whispered about in the elevator." Andy's brow creased harder, and he took a half step toward Delp. Sharon matched his step, however, and the shadowed movement stopped Andy from going any further.

Delp looked at Sharon, clearly annoyed and ready to ride off on a wave of exaggerated grandiosity. "I'd advise you to keep your man in line, Captain. I'd hate to see this reflect poorly on your position as head of this division." With that, Delp picked up his briefcase and exited the room, leaving Sharon and Andy to stand in silence. She despised the way he'd called Andy "her man." It wasn't a secret they were dating, but she certainly deserved the respect of referring to her officer by his ranking status. He was a detective, after all, and the sly play on words left too little space to differentiate their work and their personal relationship.

Andy looked at her and began to explain his actions. "Sharon, you should have heard this asshole, going on and on about how our guy was cleaning up the streets of LA, and he wished he could have…" She didn't give him the chance to finish.

"Just," she breathed in, making her pause almost tangible in the silent room. "Just make sure you do what Captain Delp tells you to do, okay? And for God's sake, keep your hands to yourself in the meantime." She knew the last comment was petty, but frankly, she was mad as hell. What the fuck did Andy think he was doing, punching murder suspects on their front porches before they've even been interviewed.

"Keep my hands to myself? Really?" Andy heard the condescending tone in Sharon's voice and didn't take kindly to being scolded by the woman he'd woken up next to. "You don't even know what the asshole was saying! I guess it's too much to expect you to give me the benefit of the doubt. Too much to assume you'd take my side in this." Now he was fuming.

"Your side?! You don't have a side, Andy! You hit a suspect without any kind of justification! What do you expect me to do? Stand here and pretend like that kind of behavior is anything close to what I agree with?" Sharon shouldn't be shouting, she knew. She tried to keep her voice down but it obviously wasn't going very well.

"I thought you'd at least hear me out! I mean, for fuck's sake Sharon, I'm your…" She cut him off. "You're my what?" Sharon questioned. "My _boyfriend_? The man I'm dating? Or my _subordinate officer_?" Those last two words sat in the room like a wool blanket, heavy and rough. Andy stood for a moment, mouth slightly agape, wondering where all this had come from.

"Subordinate, huh? Really Sharon? What the hell? Where is this coming from?" Andy wasn't shouting anymore. His voice had taken on an exhausted, and yes, hurt, tone.

"I can't take your side in this, Andy. You can't _expect_ me to take your side. I spent a fairly large portion of my career investigating you temper and unwarranted use of violence. And now you want me to stand in my own office, in front of a colleague, a colleague who's now _in charge_ of the Force Investigation Division, and tell him I think you were right for punching an unarmed suspect?" Andy opened his mouth to reply, but Sharon continued without letting him get a word in. "You're not my boyfriend here. We aren't dating _here_." She gestured out her window, indicating the murder room and the rest of Major Crimes' offices. "Here, you have to take responsibility for your fucking temper without expecting me to have your back as the woman you've been sleeping with for the past five months." Sharon was angry, but she was also slowly slipping into a much deeper conversation than her anger had originally intended. This wasn't about Andy anymore, it was about them both.

"Sharon, I didn't expect you to have my back because we're _sleeping together_ ," Andy hated the way she deduced their relationship to the bare bones. "I expected you to have my back because you're my boss, and I though you trusted me and my judgment."

"Jesus, Andy. How can I trust your judgment when you punch idiots for no reason?!" Sharon raised her voice, the anger again bubbling to the top.

"I tried to tell you the reason!" Andy shouted back. "Sure didn't take long for Darth _fucking_ Raydor to return to the helm of her ship, did it? Fuck Sharon, I wasn't thinking how I would embarrass you when I hit the guy. I wasn't really thinking about you at all." Andy wasn't sure why it was important for him to say it, but he knew he'd hit a nerve. Sharon hadn't heard the term "Darth Raydor" in several years, and the ease with which Andy brought it up was unsettling, to say the least.

"Well. I guess that's it, then, isn't it?" Sharon's eyes fell and she let out a long, soft sigh. This is the thing she had been worrying about. This is the moment of reckoning.

"What's 'it'?" Andy questioned, slowly understanding where this conversation had travelled without his realizing it.

"Knowing when we're supposed to think about one another. Knowing when we're supposed to have each other's backs. Knowing when it's okay for us to be in love, and when we should look out for ourselves." Sharon was slowly shrinking into herself. She knew she was speaking to Andy, but seemed as if she was only speaking out loud to an empty room.

"We're not _supposed_ to prioritize it like that," Andy said. "We're supposed to be in love all the time. We can work it out so both can be true, can't we?" He was slowly growing desperate at the sight of Sharon, intelligent, sexy, spectacular Sharon, retreating away from him. He could tell it was happening even though neither of them had moved.

"Can we?" She answered his question with the same question. "Does this feel like it's working to you?" Her eyes were honest—honestly pleading with him to prove her wrong. At this point, she'd take almost any modicum of proof he had to offer to the contrary.

"Sharon…" Andy didn't have a reply, but he prayed one might come to him if he opened his mouth.

"Maybe we should just…" Sharon didn't know what she was asking, she just needed him to leave her office, and quickly. "Maybe we should just get some perspective." She wouldn't bring her eyes to meet his, she just stared at the navy carpet and her own black high heels.

"You want to take a break?" Andy asked, earnestly trying to decipher how a reprimand from FID had turned into a break-up in less than fifteen minutes.

Sharon huffed slightly, and let out a very sad smile. "I always hated that expression." She said, finally bringing her gaze to meet his.

"Wonder why," Andy said cooly.

"We just…We just can't keep having this conversation," Sharon stated, imagining that was reason enough to put an end to things while things were still bearable.

"No. One time's definitely enough for me." Andy was angry again. Not out-loud passionate angry. But calm, teeth-gritting physically painfully angry. He started to make his way to the door when Sharon reached for his arm. "Andy…" This time, it was him who wouldn't let her finish.

"I'll see you in the morning, Captain." Andy bit out and walked out of her office.


	2. Chapter 2

The whole week had been a blur. Major Crimes had caught three homicides in ten days. Not only was that unusual, it resulted in the sleep deprivation of the entire team. Sharon had done her best to get them all home by 11pm as often as she could, but even that hadn't been possible the last few nights. It resulted in a cranky, overworked team with few resources and limited patience. For Andy, it made an already uncomfortable situation worse.

Not only had he and Sharon not talked about their recent conversation (Andy was still hesitant to call it a break-up), they had barely talked at all. Sharon communicated mostly with Provenza, who then passed along information to his partner. Andy couldn't quite decide if Sharon was intentionally avoiding him or not. Given how busy the team had been, it was understandable that Sharon's priorities were in getting quick results, not catering to his need for closure. Nevertheless, Wednesday came and the team closed their last case. Sharon asked Taylor to give the next murder to Robbery/Homicide, and he agreed that unless the governor or president was shot in LA, he would let her team have a couple of days of well-deserved break. While everyone finished up their paperwork late in the afternoon, Sharon intentionally procrastinated with hers. She wasn't really in any rush to get home; Rusty was working and she knew there was an unavoidable conversation headed her way regarding Andy Flynn.

On the one hand, Sharon had been grateful for the rush of work that came immediately after she had ended things with Andy. She didn't have time to dwell, and therefore didn't have time to regret. But now, in the soft glow of a slowly setting sun, Sharon was coming to terms with what she had done.

Pulling her out of a cloud of self-doubt, Sharon heard a quiet knock on her office door. "We're all finished here, Captain. Sykes and Julio headed out a few minutes ago. I'm just checking if you need anything before I leave as well?" It was a genuine offer, but given the bags bulking under Lieutenant Provenza's eyes, Sharon knew she better not take him up on it. "Thank you, Lieutenant. I'm all set here. Enjoy your night, try to rest up." She delivered a soft smile and unintentionally let her eyes wander over Provenza's shoulder and out her office window, where she saw another grey-haired man packing up for the night. Provenza caught her glance and quickly checked the murder room to see what had gotten her attention. Upon realizing who she was looking at, he tried to regain her focus. "Alright, well uh…goodnight, Captain. See you in a couple of days." Sharon returned her gaze to Provenza and nodded. As he left her office, she made a point to look down at her paperwork and not let her Lieutenant see her ogling Andy again. She heard him slap his partner on the shoulder and say goodbye, followed by something muttered that Sharon couldn't quite make out.

After a few seconds, Sharon thought she could risk looking away from the paperwork she was only pretending to fill out. She immediately wished she hadn't. Out her window, in front of his desk, Andy was standing stark still, looking into Sharon's office at her. He didn't move, even after she returned his eye contact. They both just stared, each hearing their own side of an unspoken conversation. When Andy moved, Sharon thought he'd finally decided to come into her office. Instead, he grabbed his suit jacked off his chair and left. Sharon let out an aching breath, gathered up her own belongings, and decided to finish up her paperwork at home.

After a long shower and two glasses of white wine, Sharon had completed the last bit of administrative paperwork on their latest homicide. Unfortunately, this left her completely without distraction. She hugged a pillow to her chest, leaned back on the couch, and shut her eyes. When she heard her phone buzz on the coffee table, she almost jumped off the couch to get it. Much to her disappointment, it was only a text from Rusty telling her not to worry but he'd be home late. _Figures_ , Sharon thought. Andy had always been the one to call and text, something she hadn't realized she'd taken for granted until now. Because now, when she most wanted him to call her so they could talk, he was still angry and unwilling to reach out.

And Sharon refused to dial him. She still didn't know if breaking-up had been the right decision or not. It was true that their relationship had officially gotten in the way of their chain-of-command. Even Andy couldn't deny that. And he was out of line to expect Sharon to back him up when he had clearly been out of line. That still didn't explain _why_ Andy had hit Rickman in the first place. On that point, Andy had been right–Sharon didn't really let him explain himself. She got too caught up in Delp's disdainful tone and needing to come across as unbiased.

Ugh. Maybe she should just call him.


	3. Chapter 3

Meanwhile, across town, Andy was brooding in his own living room, distracting himself from thinking about Sharon. Because nursing a bottle of whisky wasn't an option, Andy had cooked himself dinner, put a load of laundry in the wash, and decided to clean his gun. He was wiping down the barrel when his doorbell rang, causing Andy to startle and almost drop the heavy metal onto his dining table. Assuming who would be on the other side, he could hear his heart pounding in his head as he made his way to the door. He felt absolute relief, remorse, and still the burning coals of an anger he had been fostering over the course of the last ten days. When he looked through the window near his front door, he let out an exaggerated breath. _Provenza_.

"Haven't seen enough of me yet?" It was a joke, but you'd never be ever to tell by Andy's clearly frustrated tone. "Very funny. Can I come in?" Provenza returned the snarky greeting and took a step into Andy's house.

Provenza moved towards the dining table upon seeing the project his friend had started on, willing to let him finish up while they talked. Andy moved towards the kitchen. "Want a drink?" Provenza had been keenly aware of his partner's distress over the last week, and spun around a bit too quickly at the supposedly casual question. When he deciphered the look on his concerned friend's face, Andy clarified, rather annoyed. "Calm down. I've got water and iced tea. There's some soda in the garage."

"I'm fine, thanks." Provenza was curt again, but reassured his friend hadn't done the dramatic thing and started drinking because of his recent heart-break. "So. Big plans tonight?" Provenza wagged an eyebrow in the direction of Andy's disassembled gun.

"Don't tell me you came over to criticize my choice of pastime," Andy returned to the table, sitting caddy-corner to Provenza.

"No, no. Just surprised to see you here alone, that's all." He was trying to be cautious, but he also wasn't willing to beat around the bush for the rest of the night.

"Psh," Andy let out a huff and creased his eyebrows, "I don't usually invite my dates over to watch me do laundry and get in bed by 9pm."

"I'm just surprised you invite your dates over at all. Sharon must be more progressive than I thought." Provenza made a face at Andy, causing the other man to roll his eyes.

"Is there something I can help you with?" Andy was not amused. He hadn't explicitly told Provenza what happened between him and Sharon, but he expected a seasoned detective to at least be able to pick up on the fact that he _did not_ want to discuss it.

After a pause, Provenza replied. "Do you want to tell me what you did to so royally piss off the captain?" Andy snorted and shifted uncomfortably in his seat.

"I punched that Rickman dirtbag. FID got their panties in a bunch. That's it." Andy wasn't willing to have a conversation with Provenza about Sharon until he figured out how he felt himself.

"Oh bullshit 'that's it,'" Provenza scoffed. "Besides, we all know that part. It's not the first time. Why's she so uptight about this Rickman idiot?"

Andy took a moment to formulate his response. "It's not Rickman, it's me. We're not exactly… It just got complicated, her being my boss and everything. We decided to call it quits. No big deal. Everything's fine." Andy wasn't exactly reassuring, but he was trying to be relatively casual about the whole thing.

" _Everything's fine_ my ass." Provenza had had enough, it was time to get the real story out of his friend. "If everything were fine, you wouldn't be huffing around the office like you did when you got divorced, and she wouldn't be making Bambi eyes at you over my shoulder. What the hell did you do?"

"I didn't do anything," Andy was annoyed now. "It just wasn't working anymore. Christ. I don't really think any of this is your business, anyway!"

"Listen idiot," this would not be the first time Provenza had to give his friend a cold, harsh reality check, "a couple months ago you were writing out a deathbed confession so she'd know you loved her. I can't believe you two casually decided your relationship was too complicated and amicably broke it off." Provenza was grandstanding now, but Andy refused to let his cool visage slip. "Well, I don't know what to tell you, old man." Provenza furrowed his brow at the nickname. "I'm fine. She's fine. I think you're making more out of this than there is." Andy was ready to escort his friend out of his house. He hadn't wanted to talk about this in the first place, and he certainly hadn't planned on lying about how he and Sharon broke-up. But this was ridiculous! It was none of the old man's business!

"Alright well, if you don't want to tell me the truth, you should at least come up with a more believable story. Next time someone asks, just tell 'em she kicked your sorry ass to the curb. That I could believe!" Provenza stood up, not willing to continue a clearly unproductive conversation.

"Yeah alright, don't let the door hit ya." Andy scoffed again. At least this conversation was over.

After Provenza left, Andy proceeded to finish wiping down his gun, practically rubbing a hole into the stock. He also proceeded to think only about Sharon, working through the sludge of his own feelings and the last ten days.

 _Jesus_ , he thought, _maybe I should just go over there._


	4. Chapter 4

Days turned into weeks, and weeks into a month and a half. Sharon never called, and Andy never went to see her. They let the heart-break and confusion fester like an open wound, hoping that with enough time and cordiality they might be able to save some semblance of a friendship. Enough, at least, to keep things dignified at work.

At first, Sharon was frustrated with her feelings for Andy and her need to stay in control at her job. A part of her knew that loving Andrew Flynn only ended with more FID reprimands, and a slow disintegration of respect for her as his commanding officer. The thought of that made her grit her teeth and return to the mantra that no man would be worth compromising her career. However, another part of her—usually the part that snuck out a little after midnight—knew she had made a colossal mistake. Oh, she missed him dearly. She missed every part of him: when he wasn't in her bed, when he didn't smile at her in the morning, and when he was standing right next to her in the office, stiff as a board, refusing to make eye contact. _Especially then,_ when he was close enough to touch, but refused to do so. He'd become complacent under her orders, obedient and unquestioning. Sharon could tell she'd done some unrepairable damage, so she thought it best to swallow her own heartache and leave him alone. If he wanted nothing to do with her, he certainly didn't have to.

For the past six weeks, Andy had flowed somewhere between quiet, smoldering anger and exhaustion. While he hadn't exactly fought to prove her wrong, Sharon was the responsible party for ending their relationship. She had broken it off with him. And she clearly didn't regret it. She hadn't tried to communicate with him at all in recent weeks, and he took that as a clear sign that she was moving on. They tried the whole dating-where-you-work scenario, and it imploded. Simple, really. His fingers still twitched every time he watched her sit on her desk and cross her legs. He still woke up with an insistent erection every time his subconscious dared to dream about her naked and wrapped up in his sheets. He still wished he could walk her to the elevator. But if she didn't regret killing their romance, he certainly wasn't going to grovel.

Besides, he had other annoyances to occupy him now. Their new homicide involved the murder of a young paralegal who had been interning for a judge on the California State Supreme Court. And along with the implied headaches of trying to conduct on investigation in the middle of that shit-show in legality, some asshole lawyer—a friend of the judge's—had inserted himself in the middle of their investigation. He said he'd worked with the intern on a lengthy project, and thought he might be able to help. Much to Andy's dismay, that meant hanging around Major Crimes at all hours of the day, offering his unsolicited opinion on every lead they got. He didn't understand why Sharon— _the Captain_ —didn't just kick him out. He followed her around more than anyone else. He _must_ be getting on her nerves too.

"I can't imagine a woman like you has any trouble getting men to tell her exactly what she wants to hear, Captain Raydor." Marcken, the lawyer, joked to Sharon after watching an interview in electronics. _What the fuck,_ Andy thought.

Sharon laughed nervously. "Well, Detective Sykes is a very skilled interrogator as well. My team knows how to handle a criminal who wants to confess. It has very little to do with me."

Sharon went to leave the room, realizing Marcken intended to follow her. Thank goodness they continued their conversation out of ear-shot, leaving Provenza, Andy, Buzz, and Taylor in electronics. "Whatever you say, Captain. All I know is, if you asked me to confess to murder, in that skirt, I just might." Marcken actually winked at Sharon and threw her a nobel-prize winning smile.

 _He can't be serious_ , Sharon thought. _This asshole is actually hitting on me?!_ Remembering that Taylor had explicitly asked her to 'play nice,' Sharon swallowed her own outrage and smiled back at the lawyer.

"Well. Let's hope it never comes to that, shall we?" Sharon really wanted to get away from this guy, but needed to be polite. And frankly, he actually had been somewhat helpful in establishing a timeline in the young intern's death. Sharon could see Andy and Buzz were making their way back to the Murder Room in the corner of her eye.

"Have dinner with me?" Marcken was relentless, and clearly not picking up on any of Sharon's signs of disinterest. Sharon's face was shocked, and she immediately looked at Andy who had obviously heard that part of their conversation. Speechless, she forgot to decline the insistent lawyer's offer. "I…umm…" was all she could get out.

"Perfect! I'll call you tonight." Another cartoonish wink and Marcken planted a brief but aggressive kiss on Sharon's cheek, then he was gone. Sharon was left standing dazed and unbalanced in the Murder Room, praying Andy had miraculously gone deaf and blind sometime in the last five minutes. Given the clenched jaw and furrowed brow on the man's face, she realized she had no such luck. He was sitting, staring at nothing on his desk, just clearly not intending to talk to or look at Sharon. She walked all the way around the office, through the far conference room, and into her office just so she didn't have to walk by him. _Jesus Christ_ , she cursed. _Why. Whywhywhy did that have to happen in front of him?!_ He looked like he was about to put a fist through the wall. _Or worse,_ she thought.

She decided to wait an hour or two and then call Marcken herself to explain that going out with him would be highly inappropriate. If that didn't work, she might have to pretend she's married, or ill, or gay. Anything really, to keep that creep away from her for the next few days.

She was so caught up in her own humiliation, she didn't even see Andy throw his chair into his desk, snatch his jacket, and make a beeline for the elevator.


	5. Chapter 5

Andy went straight to the gym when he got out of the building. He couldn't beat the crap out of anyone he was actually mad at: Marcken, Sharon, or himself. So instead, he'd break a sweat the productive way.

Two hours later, dripping sweat and none more satiated, Andy stepped into a cold shower. The muscles in his head were throbbing as much as the ones in his arms and legs, and he had no way to ease the pain. _How could it have gotten this fucked up?_ he wondered. He thought he might have been making a bit of progress where Sharon was concerned. He no longer felt the need to call her every night. He stopped asking about Rusty during their coffee breaks. He had stopped looking down her blouse when she bent over, and at her hips when she'd reach up to stretch. He'd been doing everything she asked. He'd been compliant, well-behaved. He thought he'd gotten a grip. _Apparently not_ , he reminded himself. He stepped out of the shower, made his way to his gym bag, and put his clothes back on. He stopped for dinner on his way home, mostly delaying the suffocating silence of his empty house.

Laying in bed that night, Andy still couldn't get a grip on his anger and jealousy. _He thinks he's just going to waltz up to Sharon and sweep her off her feet? With that store-bought tan and cheap cologne?_ He knew he was being petty, but he honestly couldn't think of one redeeming quality Marcken had displayed since getting involved with Major Crimes. _She's smarter than that, isn't she? I mean, she's not going to actually go out with that guy, is she?_ Andy was working himself into a frenzy and clearly not getting any sleep. He jumped out of bed and put on his clothes, considering returning to his gym for another workout. Anything to get his mind off an image of Marcken running his hand up Sharon's calf. _Motherfucker_.

Of course, Andy did not end up at the gym. Something was throbbing inside him alright, but it wasn't pent-up energy. It was anger, and hurt, and vengeance, and jealousy. It was ugly and dark and the only thing that would prompt him to pound on her door at two in the morning.

He only had time to regret his impulsive decision in the millisecond between when he heard her come to the door and when she threw it open. Her hair was messy, her nightgown too thin to hide the outlines of her body, and she was clearly pissed. Before she could let out a snarling threat, however, Andy was there.

He grabbed her face with both hands and slammed his mouth onto hers until he could feel teeth through her upper lip. She grabbed his arms to steady herself and he kicked her door shut from the inside, slamming loudly against the frame. He opened his mouth as far as it would go, trying not so much to kiss as to devour. He scraped his tongue against hers with such force it pushed hers back into her own mouth, where he proceeded to explore relentlessly. He shoved her backwards until her ass hit the small table in her entryway, causing her to groan at the pain. In the dark, Andy didn't really have the perception to worry about her furniture. His hands fell to roughly grip her ass, pulling her into him with such strength it pushed all of the air out of her body. In seconds he had lifted her onto the table, only to encounter another obstacle with the large silver bowl holding her wallet and keys. Without a thought, he swiped it to the side, resulting in a large crashing sound on the floor. If her neighbors hadn't woken up to the slamming door, they certainly had now.

With Sharon trapped against the wall, atop the table, and under Andy, he let his hands go straight to the apex of her thighs, fingers sticky in the moisture under her gown. He never let his mouth leave Sharon's, though they were both battling with too little oxygen. He scraped three fingers over Sharon's panties, pushing too roughly into her clit and labia. Sharon groaned again, having moved her own hands to pull and scrape on the back of Andy's head and neck. If he wasn't going to be nice, neither was she.

Andy hooked his fingers into Sharon's panties and pulled down hard, but the angle of her knees kept him from taking them off. With an annoyed grunt, Andy tugged once more with exaggerated strength until he heard the soft sound of ripping fabric. He then tossed the torn panties to the side, supposedly landing somewhere near the silver bowl. He returned one hand to her center, pushing three long fingers deep inside her, none too slowly. Sharon moaned under Andy's mouth, finally gaining enough space to take a deep breath. Andy's other hand went to her breast where it squeezed harshly, bruising the soft flesh under her thin satin gown. Sharon's hands traveled down Andy's torso, bypassing his shirt to work directly on his jeans.

When she felt his bulging erection through the thick denim, she whimpered and clamped her thighs tighter around his middle. Feeling the increased pressure around his fingers, Andy curled them up inside Sharon and rocked his pelvis against hers on the table. He did this over again until cock was so hard it made his pants uncomfortable, slipping his fingers away from her center and out from under her nightgown. Sharon sighed heavily, but caught her breath when Andy reached under her ass with both hands and lifted her off of the table. With her legs wrapped around his middle and her arms clenching around his shoulders, Andy carried her from the front door to her bedroom. Sharon had begun chewing on Andy's ear, obviously not aiding the growing problem in his pants.

Andy unceremoniously dropped Sharon onto her back on her bed. As she watched him from the bed, he quickly threw off his shirt and unzipped his jeans, letting them fall to the floor. Sharon leaned up on one elbow, reaching her other hand out to the elastic waistband of his boxers and pulled him down on the bed with her. She cocked an eyebrow at him, flirtatiously inviting him to fight back.

But Andy wasn't in the mood for flirting. He assaulted her mouth again, almost suffocating her with his tongue. The pressure made her delirious, causing her to squirm underneath the weight of his body. Feeling her movement, Andy quickly flipped her over so her stomach was to the mattress and she stretched out under him. He pulled his boxers down just far enough to let his cock come free. He paused for just a moment, lowered his head to Sharon's hair and inhaled. He both needed the oxygen and the rest. Sharon then bucked her ass into Andy's cock, though, making him move with more urgency.

He stroked through her folds a few times, making sure he wasn't going to hurt her. Then, with almost painful control, he pushed himself into Sharon's center. The first stroke was slow, and he took a moment to adjust his weight. This also gave her the chance to accommodate the thickness inside her. He moved one hand to help support himself, while the other went to her shoulder and nape of her hair. He then began to thrust into Sharon with speed, and force, and need. He could hear his body slapping against her ass with every thrust.

Sharon could feel the dry cotton of her sheets against her clit, providing only a semblance of the friction she longed to feel. She reached her hand above her head and tried to push her ass further into Andy's incessant thrusts. She couldn't get the right angle, though, and the soft mattress was never going to give her the pressure she needed to finish. With every push of Andy's cock, however, she was growing tighter and tighter, hotter and hotter. She had already begun to sweat under the wonderful weight of his body, but she wanted more contact. They'd never had sex like this, and while there was no lack of intimacy with the way Andy handled her clearly familiar body, she felt like something was missing because she couldn't see his face.

As if he read her mind, Andy moved his grip from alternating between her hair and shoulder, down her arm, until he landed the palm of his hand against the back of hers, intertwining their fingers while he continued to thrust into her. Sharon sighed heavily and lowered her face into her mattress, squeezing his fingers tighter as she did so. After a few moments, when Andy could feel the slow need for release, he moved his hand to grip her hip, where he tilted her body slightly to the side. He continued to pound into her, but he gave himself enough room to maneuver his free hand into her curls and press three fingers roughly against her clit. He then began to rub in circles, gently at first, then mercilessly. Sharon arched her back and threw her ass harder into Andy's pelvis. When she finally hit a wall of thundering pleasure, she let out a yelling groan into her mattress, bringing her forehead to rest on her hands.

Andy only allowed her a moment to catch her breath, however, when he flipped her over so she was once again on her back. He plunged back into her with force, causing her to grunt under the renewed pressure. He rested his face in the crook of her shoulder, every once in awhile biting her clavicle and sucking on her neck.

It didn't take him long to come inside her. He grunted into her ear and gripped her breast as he did so, releasing her flesh with the same slow pace with which he regained his senses. He spent a few moments lying on top of her, doing nothing to lessen the weight of his body on hers, not that she minded. He let out ragged breaths into her neck until finally rolling over onto his back.

After a few moments, and without turning to make eye contact, Sharon attempted a timid "Andy?" She realized the whole night had gone without having spoken one word to each other. She needed help navigating what she was supposed to do with this new development.

Andy's hesitation told Sharon everything she needed to know. She turned only her face to look at Andy, still gazing up at her ceiling. "Andy." This time, it was a statement.

At that, he sat up with a groan. "Don't worry, Captain. I'm not staying." Andy ducked down to collect his jeans and pull them up to cover himself. He then gathered his tee shirt from the floor, along with his shoes. Sharon propped herself up on her elbows and watched him, daring him to look her in the eye.

He didn't.

She watched him collect his discarded clothes and leave her bedroom without a word, and without a glance.


	6. Chapter 6

**Author's note:** I am so sorry, y'all. This was supposed to be, like, one chapter, and now it's a monster. I promise I'm working on an ending! And I'll try to keep updating quickly!

Sharon stared at her ceiling fan for what felt like a very long time. She considered crying. She considered screaming. She considered driving over to Andy's and giving him a punch in the face similar to the one that started this whole saga. But instead she just laid there, sweat slowly evaporating from her skin, the leftover mess of sex sticking to her thighs, going through every detail of the last two months.

Things had been going so well with Andy until the FID audit. And even that shouldn't have been the ordeal that it turned into. She always knew Andy was a hot-head, but even Sharon wasn't going to believe that he had assaulted an unarmed man without absolute justification. She asked Provenza about it soon after Delp had begun reviewing their cases. After he pointed out that three of the prostitutes were Nicole's age, Sharon began to put together the rest of the pieces. Early in the investigation, Andy had also commented that one of the women had grown up a few blocks from his house. Knowing Andy, he probably saw Nicole's face in each of the three victims. He probably imagined unknowingly running into their mothers in his grocery store. He pictured buying their Girl Scout cookies, and watching Nicole play soccer with them in high school.

Sharon knew the tremendous guilt Andy carried with him regarding his drinking and his family. Knowing that the murdered prostitutes had come from unstable homes, he probably equated the stress he put on his own family to the abuse they faced in theirs. While Sharon knew this was irrational, she also knew Andy. His threshold for empathy was unlike any she'd seen before, and in it lived her answer for why he had punched Rickman. If Andy felt a connection, a distant responsibility for these girls, then Rickman's calling them "trash" was no different than if someone had called his own daughter worthless. Andy hit him because he thought it could have just as easily been Nicole on the table in the morgue. So while he was obviously wrong in punching the asshole in the first place, Sharon had at least come to realize that it wasn't the result of an out-of-control lieutenant, it was the result of the man she loved, seeing all his own mistakes in the lives of the people he protects. Andy may have let his temper get the best of him, but now she at least understood why it had gone as far as it did.

Then there was the fight in her office. The whole scenario still didn't quite make sense in Sharon's foggy exhaustion. She remembered how the conversation disintegrated into a fight, and she remembered the soft panic she felt when she realized she couldn't be both his boss and his lover. She later thought the decision had been rash and dramatic, but at the time, a million scenarios of impropriety ran through her head, followed by a million reasons they would be better off as friends. She should have realized then that she and Andy could never be friends again, not after working so closely, not after meeting each other's families, and not after fifty sweaty and sleepless nights with their bodies tied in knots.

She hated that Andy had been quiet and awkward around her for almost two months since. She hated that she'd tainted the perfect trust they had in each other. She had pretended like it didn't effect her work or her team, but if Provenza had noticed she could be sure the others had as well. There was a new layer of tension that coated Major Crimes and followed Sharon home every night; a tension she was responsible for.

And now there was this.

As if maneuvering through the toxic waste of her relationship hadn't been hard enough, the one thing that kept her sane was imagining Andy was angry enough to let her go. Turns out, not even that was true. Or maybe it was. She was still dazed at the events of the evening as she replayed them through her mind.

The way he kissed her tonight was overwhelming and unfamiliar. They'd always had a passionate relationship, but this was different. This was urgent. She felt like if she didn't offer him her own breath, he might not be able to breathe. If he didn't take her body, his might collapse into nothing. He touched her like it hurt, but he had no choice; like he was suffocating and she was the wind.

That's maybe what scared her the most. She knew Andy had loved her, but now she knew he needed her. She wished he hadn't heard Marcken's flirting, but she honestly thought it would be nothing more than another recent, uncomfortable interaction to add to a list of many. She didn't think Andy was still so upset.

God she missed him. She missed his body on top of hers, she missed the way he somehow always smelled like he'd freshly showered. She missed the way his stubble scratched her chin. Most of all she missed talking to him, and it seemed like that was still far from being resolved. A lot was still far from being resolved.

Sharon was getting nowhere thinking about Andy tonight, especially not in the state he'd left her in. She got up and went to the bathroom to rinse herself off. When she returned to look down at the rumpled, half-made bed, she thought nothing had ever looked less inviting. So instead, she scooped up her pillow and the top blanket and headed for her couch to try and get at least a few hours of sleep before she had to face him again in the morning.


	7. Chapter 7

Sharon woke up on her couch at 4am with little promise of getting any more sleep. She showered, got ready for work, and headed for Major Crimes. By the time the rest of her team arrived, she had been in her office for over an hour. After another hour, and noticing Andy still hadn't come in, she called on Provenza to see if he knew why.

"He called this morning and said he didn't feel well. He really didn't sound very good, so I told him to stay home and we'd let him know if we got a new case. I'm sure if you need something he'll answer his phone," Provenza said flatly, like he'd been instructed to pass along only the facts and nothing more.

"Oh no, Lieutenant. If he's sick he should obviously stay home." Sharon replied. At least she could finally stop rehearsing what she was going to say to him when they finally had to face each other; he'd gallantly bought her another day. And it was a relatively uneventful one at that, mostly tying up loose ends from their recent cases. Sharon was grateful because she was still moving in the haze of what had happened last night. She took the slow pace to finally try and figure out what the next step needed to be to fix things with Andy.

And she had decided to fix things. She spooked at the first sight of trouble, which wasn't fair to Andy or herself. That's why things had gotten so complicated and mean. Their momentum had never actually slowed down, Sharon just put the brakes on too soon and threw the whole machine out of balance.

Unfortunately, Andy stayed "sick" for the next few days. By the time the weekend rolled around, Sharon was questioning if it was even a ruse to begin with. Maybe he really had come down with something, and her assuming he was only avoiding her was a little conceited. On Friday evening, Sharon went home to try to collect the courage to drive to his house and force him into a conversation. It'd been four days and enough was enough. If he wanted nothing to do with her, she'd learn to deal with that. But he was going to have to tell her to her face.

Sharon went back to her condo and made sure Rusty was all set for the night. They had dinner, she changed clothes and drank two glasses of wine in hopes of calming her nerves. It was 10pm by the time she worked up the gumption to head to his house, but she decided backing out wasn't an option. She made her way down to the garage, into her car, and across town to his driveway.

After several long, slow breaths, Sharon stepped out of her car and timidly made her way to his front door. The lights were on, so she knew he was home. Another deep breath, she smoothed the front of her shirt, and rang the doorbell.


	8. Chapter 8

"Oh yeah! Yeah! Yes. Don't…stop!" The thirty year-old who had her legs wrapped around Andy had been screaming like that since they started. He was grunting and sweating above her, feeling more his age than he had in a long time. He was buried deep in her slippery center, watching her firm breasts bounce with every thrust of his pelvis. _Shit_. Her voice was grinding on him now, whiney and high-pitched. This was everything he'd thought he wanted, he couldn't believe he was actually having trouble focusing. Her name was Erica… _Shit, Erin?_... and _she'd_ approached _him_ in the grocery store. He was flattered at first, but when she asked him to grab dinner afterwards, he thought it was the best offer he'd gotten in a long time. He paid, of course, but she chose to go to some salad and juice place with a ridiculous name, so it wasn't much of a commitment. How they ended up fucking in his bed was a blur.

He wasn't used to how forward young women were these days. He'd spent all week nursing a broken heart, and when he realized Erin was suggesting they head back to his place after dinner, the old mantra 'get under somebody else' popped in his head. It all seemed like a good idea at the time, but now he was buried cock-deep in a woman half his age, and honestly couldn't focus enough on her to make it count.

"Oh daddy, yeah! Right there. Ugh yeah, right there. Fuck me. Fuck me harder! Yeah!" Erica continued to whine in his ear.

Andy enjoyed a little dirty talk, but this had no finesse. He wasn't used to someone being so vocal, and it continued to be distracting. He could hear the slurping and slapping of their bodies together, and his arms were growing ragged with his breathing. _Did she just call me Daddy?_ The condom he was wearing felt cumbersome and tight, and the woman's fake nails scratched his chest and back. Why wasn't he enjoying this? How had so much changed in just a few years? This used to be the only kind of sex he was used to, and now it felt completely foreign to him.

In an attempt to aide his own orgasm, Andy picked up the pace a little. Now he was slapping into her with quite a bit of force, using the spring of the mattress to help him. Erica's body was unfamiliar to him, and that, combined with her continuous porn-star exclamations, made him uncertain of whether she was coming, close to coming, or had already come. He never questioned Sharon's body like this. He knew every inch of that woman, every response and every sound. _Christ don't think about that now,_ he thought.

Andy shut his eyes and tried to attend to his own erection and the beautiful woman underneath him, but was again torn away from his focus at the sound of his own doorbell.


	9. Chapter 9

Andy ignored the ringing the first time, but groaned when he heard his doorbell again. He stopped his movements and let out a breath. "I'm sorry. I should probably get that," Andy apologized to the woman beneath him.

"Oh! No worries," Erica said brightly. "You just hurry back, Mr. Police Detective." Andy was faking an amused laugh when she sprang up to plant a kiss on his cheek, clearly unaffected by the activities of the past half-hour. Andy climbed out of bed and pulled his boxers up. He'd never gotten out of his grey tee-shirt, so while it was a little rumpled and sweaty, he thought he was sufficiently covered to tell whoever was at his door to get lost. He walked straight to the front of the house to open the door quickly, not stopping to pull the usual two blinds apart to check who was standing on his porch.

Sharon wasn't expecting to see Andy in any state of undress. Not that he was in any way indecent, she'd just gone over the scenario so many times in her head that when he wasn't wearing exactly what she thought he would be, she was already thrown off-track. So she just stared at him, mouth barely agape, silent and wide-eyed. Andy's face immediately grimaced, followed by a wash of panic he tried to conceal.

"Oh. I…um…I'm so sorry. Were you asleep?" The confidence Sharon had manufactured was quickly slipping away.

"No. I was just…I was in bed." It was the truth, basically. Andy was clearly on edge, something Sharon correctly attributed to her unannounced presence. "What do you need, Captain?" Andy was hoping to be cordial, but he knew he sounded irritated. He _was_ irritated. And surprised. And desperately regretting every decision he'd made in the last few hours.

Sharon started to reply, but was distracted when she heard a toilet flush somewhere behind Andy. She'd spent many afternoons and nights in Andy's house, so she remembered the layout well. There was only one bathroom near them, located next to the pantry and kitchen. Knowing the sound hadn't been that close, she quickly discerned it had come from the only other restroom in the back of the house. _Oh my God. There's someone in his bedroom._

Andy watched the realization wash over her face. Sharon was incomparable when it came to keeping her cool. Her trademark was her control. But Andy had gotten to know her well enough over the years to pick out the subtlest changes—like an almost inconsequential seismic shift. Not the one that causes the earthquake, but the one that happens just before the earthquake. The one you can only feel if you're standing directly above the fault line. Andy saw the tremor, but knew she would never let him witness the fallout.

"You're not alone." It was a statement; a whisper. The brief silence of Andy's hesitation told Sharon everything she needed to know. "Okay. I'm going to go." Sharon turned quickly and stepped off his porch to walk to her car.

She expected to hear her name, expected that he would try and get her to turn around. But she wasn't sure there was anything he could say.

Andy opened his mouth to tell her to wait, but nothing came out. He realized the same thing she had, there were no words that could possibly travel the great distance growing between them.

Sharon got into her car, pulled out of the driveway, and went up the street to the first stop sign. She waited there for a long time, even though no other cars were coming. Her hands were shaking, so she gripped the steering wheel tighter. It felt like her mind was simultaneously recounting every detail of the interaction with lightning speed, and going completely blank. Nothing she thought of would stay in her head for very long. She could see his boxers, his grimace, his bare feet and sticky tee-shirt—all signs of an undeniable truth. Most of all she could see his face.

Few people knew Andy as well as she did, and non knew him the same way as she did. He wasn't a cheater. _Well, it wouldn't have been cheating anyway_. Even in a state of total duress, Sharon's conscience reminded her of the facts. She knew he was angry, and she knew he was heartbroken. She knew he was trying to heal himself, not hurt her. But in the suffocated quiet of her car, late under the California night, not even her conscience made that fact feel comforting.

She focused very intently on evening out her breathing. It seemed like anger had taken root in her veins, made her muscles vibrate the way they do when you're full of rage. But anger wasn't really what she _felt_. She felt nausea, exhaustion, and a low, hollow ache in her stomach that she'd never had to name before. She fought off the tears for as long as she could, but eventually gave in to that as well. She finally made it home and into her bed, where she thought she might sleep for three or four years.

I i

Andy stood at his door until Sharon's car was out of sight. He couldn't move. He realized after all he's done in his life, he'd never been able to taste his shame the way he did now. It settled on his tongue and down in his throat. It clouded the oxygen in his lungs.

He turned slowly into his living room and closed the door behind him. He looked half-heartedly towards the glow that his open bedroom door cast on the hardwood floor. He had a naked woman waiting for his body, and another that just left with his soul. That at least explained the emptiness.

When he walked back into his bedroom, Erica was strewn across his sheets like she was posing for Penthouse—ass in the air, pillow hugged to her chest, one arm holding up her head. She smirked up at him from the bed.

"Hey, sorry about that. It was a work thing. I'm so sorry, but I just don't think it's going to happen tonight." Andy was trying to be polite while also attempting to escort the young lady out of his bed.

"Oh, uh okay. Are you feeling alright?" Erica asked, sitting up and hugging the pillow across her exposed body, clearly feeling a little awkward.

"Yeah, I'm sorry. I'm just a little off tonight. I know this isn't what you probably had in mind," Andy shrugged and replied.

"No, that's fine. Just uh…just let me get dressed." She shifted around looking over his bed for her clothes.

"Of course. Take as much time as you need. I'll step out and you can just…" Andy gestured around the room, assuming the least he could do was give her a little space, "whatever you need." Then he stepped back out of his bedroom and closed the door.

A few minutes later Erica timidly stepped into the living room holding her shoes and purse. "I was going to call a cab, but I realized I don't know your address." She tried to sound lighthearted, but she only glanced up from looking at her feet for a moment.

"Oh no, I'll drive you home, or anywhere you want to go," he said as he stood up from the couch. "I'm really sorry about all this. I know this isn't how it's supposed to go." Andy shrugged apologetically.

Clearly reassured, Erica walked over and smiled at Andy. "No problem. You can actually take me over to Pete's, if that's alright. Some friends are meeting up there, and they can get me home afterwards." She reached out to pat his arm.

"Yeah of course, Pete's it is." Andy smile at the sweet woman he briefly tried to escape into.

He let her out of the car in front of the bar and thanked her again for being so understanding. "Not at all. Hey, you can still call me sometime. I left my number by your bed," She winked at Andy and walked inside.

He went home and took a very long, very hot shower. He was mostly stunned during his encounter with Sharon earlier, but now he had time to rethink what it all meant. Mostly he thought about the tiny crease that appeared in Sharon's forehead when she heard Erica in the back of his house. He could almost trace the hurt that ghosted across her face. If he hadn't been breathing so loud, he's pretty sure he would have heard the crack in her armor. Andy was going to remember the look on her face for a very long time. It looked like disappointment personified, like nothing he ever did would ever make her smile again. But somewhere in the milliseconds between when she started to fall and when she crashed into reality, Andy had let go of every ounce of anger he had been harboring for Sharon for the last two months. In that moment, he would have walked through fire for her. He would have apologized in a thousand unlearnable languages. He would have pulled his own heart out of the cavity of his chest with his own bare hands and handed it to her, on his knees.

Most of all, he never would have brought the other woman home. It certainly wasn't like him. It didn't fit his character at all; the character he has worked so hard to craft in his recovery. Respectable, dependable, loyal. No, it wasn't like him to be so reckless. But at the time, that was kind of the point.

Now he was left alone in his bed, thinking about Sharon the same way he had been for the last few years. Except when he used to think about her, his feelings were complicated and cumbersome and almost bursting out of his chest—need, worry, want, fear, lust, and love. Now, when he sifted through the complication of everything he was struggling to explain, he really only felt one thing.

He missed her.

He missed her like he missed the house he grew up in. He missed her like he missed his kids. He missed her like you miss the rain after living in LA for too many years. He missed her in a way that settled in his bones and made his temperature drop.

He had to get her back. If there was a way, Andy was prepared to find it.


	10. Chapter 10

After wracking his brain all day, Andy refrained to the solutions that had worked for him in the past. He knew flowers weren't enough to make up for the pain Sharon felt last night. Jewelry didn't feel like it fit what he was trying to accomplish. And chocolate was just plain cheap.

Finally, Andy decided on a trip. Yes, a vacation sounded perfect. It was big enough to be a grand gesture, and it would give them a chance to reconnect. He could apologize profusely and prove to Sharon that yes, he was an idiot, but he was trying everything to win her back. He was looking up hotels in Malibu when his cell phone started to buzz.

"What the fuck did you do?" An angry voice on the other end of the line startled Andy away from his computer screen.

"Rusty?" Andy was equal parts concerned and offended.

"Ya know, I never really liked you. But Sharon begged me to give you a chance. And I thought things were going alright there for awhile. But obviously you did something stupid. So WHAT DID YOU DO?" He demanded again.

"Listen kid, I don't really think this is any of your business. Did she say something to you?" Andy had moved from offended to annoyed. Rusty was disrupting the newfound confidence he'd discovered with his plan to apologize with a weekend in Malibu.

"No, lieutenant, she didn't say anything to me. She hasn't said anything since she got home last night. I knew you two had broken it off but I thought you'd gotten your act together when she said she was going over to your place last night. Now she looks like she's using all of her energy to put a good face on for me and I can only assume it's YOUR FAULT."

"Is she sick or something?" Andy was concerned again, but also having trouble deciphering why the kid had really called him.

"No she's not sick! Jesus, it's like you don't even care what's going one with her!" Rusty was yelling now, more so than when he originally called.

"Of course I care what's going on with her, Rusty. Look. We've been through some tough stuff recently. I know I've made a lot of mistakes. But I've got a plan to fix it. I promise, Rusty, I'm going to make it up to her." Andy's confidence had returned.

"Make it up to her? Like what? I don't think you understand, Andy. I don't mean she's sad. I mean…" Rusty took a second, words had never been his forte. "I've never seen her like this."

Andy hesitated to reply. He knew the kid looked out for Sharon, but the genuine concern he was showing chipped away at Andy's plan and slowly replaced it with images of her face from last night.

"I don't know what you have in mind, but I don't think a stupid bouquet is gonna do it. She's really struggling. She's trying to hide it, but whatever happened last night really got to her. I'm worried." Rusty finally spoke his peace.

Andy took a big, deep breath. "Okay kid, I promise I'll take care of it. I'll be over tomorrow." He finally realized what he needed to do.

"Okay. Well, good luck I guess. I'll see you tomorrow." After a moment, Andy realized neither of them had hung up.

"Hey, Rusty? I'm…I'm really sorry about all of this." Andy also realized Sharon probably wasn't the only one that had been suffering for the past couple of months.

"Just fix it," and Rusty was gone.

Andy hung up the phone and closed his laptop. Malibu wasn't the answer. There was nothing Andy could offer Sharon that would make up for two months of treating each other poorly, nothing that would make up for what she walked in on last night. The only thing Andy had to offer Sharon was himself. It was time they had the conversation they both refused to have after the fight, after the FID investigation, after Marcken, and after last night. And with that, came the fear and anxiety that had fueled their hesitancy up until now; it might not go well. Andy might not get the answer he's looking for. In fact, Andy finally understood that he needed to prepare for a rejection. If he was her, he wouldn't take him back. He needed to be ready for Sharon to say that she wanted nothing to do with him. He needed to prepare for a life without her.


	11. Chapter 11

Andy arrived at Sharon's door just as Rusty was leaving. When he lifted his fist to knock, Rusty pulled the door open and almost stumbled into him.

"Oh…uh…hi, lieutenant. She's in the kitchen," Rusty mumbled and stepped past Andy into the hallway. Andy just nodded and gave the kid a small wave before stepping inside the condo and closing the door behind him.

Given the stunned look on her face when Andy came around the corner into the kitchen, Sharon obviously hadn't heard their exchange.

"Hi there," suddenly Andy felt very, very small.

Sharon had gone completely still where she was standing, but mustered enough strength to give Andy a mild "hello."

When he realized that was all he was going to get out of her, Andy took a timid step forward. "Listen, Sharon. I didn't…" But Sharon cut him off with a wave of her hand.

"You don't need to explain, Andy. Really. I should have called before I came over. I should have thought you might have a…" Sharon desperately wanted her to remain without a definitive label, "guest."

"She wasn't a guest, Sharon. We just…" Again, she didn't let him finish.

"It's okay," Sharon was a little frantic, and shyly looked down at her shoes, "I really don't need to know. It's uh, it's your business. And I'd rather not…ya know." Sharon hoped Andy would take the clue and not mention her again. "Can I…" the hostess in Sharon was about to take over and offer Andy something to drink, but she quickly corrected herself, "What can I do for you?" She made a small gesture with both hands in front of her waist, indicating her kitchen and inquiring as to why Andy was standing in it.

Andy took another step towards Sharon but stopped himself when she instinctively mirrored a step away from him. "I just thought we should talk about what's been going on here."

"Andy, I don't think we really have much to talk about." Sharon was given no warning that Andy was coming over, and realized she was totally unprepared to face him.

"Well, then you don't have to talk. But you're going to listen." Andy remembered that sometimes Sharon spent so much time in charge of everyone else, she found it comforting when other people took control. It sounded a little demanding, but Andy hoped it might actually help if he established his presence and made sure she understood that he was there, and he wasn't going anywhere.

"You never should have let the FID investigation get in between us. I obviously shouldn't have lost my temper, but you should have let me explain. It wasn't fair to act like our relationship was disposable. But…" Andy breathed in, he knew this next part was a risk. "But I forgive you for that." He prayed that his earnest tone of voice would prove to Sharon that he wasn't trying to be condescending, he was trying to be sincere.

"I was angry with you for a long time, which is why I kind of exploded again when I saw that Marcken asshole flirting with you during the Remiros investigation. I shouldn't have come over that night. And I definitely shouldn't have left the way I did. And for that, I am very sorry."

"Andy, really, it's…" Sharon tried, but he cut her off again.

"I'm not finished. I can't be your friend, Sharon. When I told Taylor that if things didn't work out, you and I could go back to the way things were, I meant it. But I can't. I don't want to watch you work everyday and feel like I can't ask you how you're doing. I can't report to you like any other lieutenant. I can't treat you like my Captain, Sharon, because I'm in love with you. I'm still in love with you. I don't want to go back to being very good friends. I don't think I _can_. This is it, Sharon. This is it for me. You are it." Andy took a deep breath in to regain his composure, then continued. "I'm prepared to transfer, if you think this thing between us is too far gone. But you've got to know I never meant to hurt you." Andy had more prepared, but he stopped himself when he saw the look on Sharon's face. Tears had begun to prick the corners of her eyes, but Andy wasn't confident if they were forgiving or sorrowful.

"Andy. I just… There's so much that has happened. I don't want to go through this again, you know? And I know you weren't trying to hurt me. I know that." Sharon tried to make sure to make eye-contact, so Andy would know the next comment wasn't accusatory. "But last night, when I saw… I just…" She took another half-step away from Andy.

"Sharon, she was nothing. You have to believe me when I tell you that was nothing. It meant nothing. And I'm so sorry you were there. Just please believe me, Sharon. Please." Andy was insistently trying to emphasize the word 'nothing,' realizing with every syllable he sounded more and more like an ex-husband cliché.

Sharon's pursed lips and furrowed brow indicated she wasn't giving in. She tilted her head towards the ground, trying to reconcile how in order to truly sever ties with Andy, she would have to break her own heart.

Andy watched as Sharon was slowly retreating into herself, like he'd seen a handful of times before. His next move was less of a decision and more of an instinct. He took three quick steps towards Sharon and landed on his knees in front of her. He reached around her waist, just above her ass, and pressed his face into the low of her stomach.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm sorry," Andy whispered into her body, clutching her closely to him and moving his mouth along her stomach.

Sharon took a sharp intake of breath when Andy landed on his knees and hugged her tightly to him. After a moment's hesitation, she let out a long, slow breath and let her hand come to gently rest on his head and shoulders.

At the reciprocated contact, Andy began to move more frantically against Sharon. He continued his mantra, and with every "I'm sorry" he pressed a kiss into her abdomen.

"I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I'm so sorry." It may have been underwhelming, but this is the core of what Andy came to say. Sharon moved her hands around his head and shoulder, down the center of his back to lean over and hug him closer to her legs and torso. She brought her face down next to his briefly and placed a gentle upside-down kiss on his temple. When she stood back up, Andy finally lifted his face up from the pillow of her belly to meet her eyes.

"Please forgive me, Sharon." It was the last plea Andy had. If she said no, he was prepared to walk away. _Please don't say no._

"Okay." Sharon nodded and Andy was immediately on his feet. He wrapped his arms around her waist and hugged her tighter than he probably ever had. Sharon wrapped an arm around his waist and another around his neck to reciprocate every ounce of pressure he exerted. They held each other in silence for a few moments, then Andy's hands splayed across her back and he brought his face to her neck. He landed several kisses on her clavicle up to her pulse point, replacing his previous mantra with soft "thank yous." When he finally reached the bottom of her ear, he gave her another hard kiss and said, "I love you."

Sharon snuck a hand up to Andy's cheek and brought his face to meet hers. "I love you too."

Andy smiled at Sharon like he hadn't looked at her in a very long time, then crashed his mouth onto hers. It was one, long, hard kiss at first, but then he began to pepper her mouth with soft sweet kisses. Sharon caught his lips in hers, though, and they began a battle they hadn't indulged in far too long. She opened her mouth into his and softly slipped her tongue between his lips. Only at her initiation did he return the gesture, using his own tongue to meet hers, causing a soft moan to escape from her mouth. Andy missed a lot of things about Sharon, but _that moan_. That moan might be the single sexiest sound Andy has ever known. It was music, and he'd been living for two months without an orchestra.

Andy pushed her against the counter and grabbed around her thighs to lift her onto it. They continued to battle with each other's tongues while Andy let his hands retrace the map of her body that had once been so familiar. He kissed her neck, pulled at her clothes, and let his hands roam from the soft dip of her waist, to the pillow of her breast, to tug at her hair, and rub up and down over her jeans. Their breathing was becoming labored and Andy wasn't sure how long he could control the quickly building fire between them.

Sharon gently took his head in both of her hands and brought his face up to meet hers. Nose to nose, eyes cloudy and searching, she let out a breath. "Andy," she whispered into a smile, just liking the sound of it in the room, the taste of it in her mouth.

"I'm here," he replied, and drew the pad of his thumb across the bottom swell of her lip.

The End


End file.
